Andy Jackson: Child of Land & Sea

To Hell With Laurel Wreaths

Act I — Storm At Sea

Part VIII — There's never been, not ever before, a child born of sea and shore.

Zeus did not blast her to bits, something Andy was very grateful for.

From the airport, she alone took a plane to the Empire State Building where she gave the drachmas to the guard at the front desk. The man put her in the elevator quickly.

It was really there. Olympus.

There were twelve thrones arranged in a U, like the cabins in Camp Half-Blood. They were empty except for two at the end: the head throne on the right, and the one to its immediate left.

Zeus, the Lord of the Skies, stared at her. His face was proud and handsome and grim, his eyes rainy gray. But it was the god next to him who captured her interest. His skin was deeply tanned and his hands scarred. His eyes, sea-green like Andy's, were surrounded by sun-crinkles that showed he smiled a lot.

They weren't moving or speaking, but there was tension in the air, as if they'd just finished an argument.

Andy's heart was racing. She was very scared. She had every notion they could blast her into dust any moment. But she would not bow to them. She owed them nothing. Not them.

"My child," Poseidon greeted her.

Zeus turned to him. "You still claim her? The child whom you sired against our secret oath?"

"I have admitted my wrongdoing. Now I would hear her speak."

Wrongdoing. Ouch. Andy felt her hands shake. A lump welled up in her throat. She felt the insane urge to laugh.

"I have spared her once already," Zeus grumbled. "Daring to fly through my domain... pah! I should have blasted her out of the sky for her impudence."

"And risk destroying your master bolt?" Poseidon asked, calmly. "Let us hear the girl, brother."

Zeus grumbled some more, but agreed to listen.

"Andromeda," Poseidon said. "Look at me." But Andy didn't want to, she couldn't. "Child?" She met his eyes and saw the clear sign of approval. But no encouragement. It was like staring at the ocean. It both scared and amazed her. "Address Lord Zeus, child. Tell him your story."

And tell it she did. When she was done, Andy placed the bolt at Zeus' feet. Zeus took it and Andy could see the power flowing through both him and the bolt.

"I sense you speak the truth," Zeus muttered. "But that is much unlike Ares."

"He is proud and impulsive," Poseidon said.

"He did not act alone," Andy continued. "Someone else—something else—came up with the idea. I think he was being used, just as I was, to start a war."

"You're accusing Hades?" Zeus asked.

"No," she said. "Not Hades. But there was something down in that pit... In Tartarus. Something is stirring down there. Something older than the gods."

Poseidon and Zeus looked at each other. They had a quick, intense discussion in Ancient Greek. Andy caught only one word: father. Poseidon made some kind of suggestion, but Zeus cut him off. "We'll speak of this later." He stood. "You have done me a service, girl. Few heroes could have accomplished as much."

"I had help. An—"

"To show you my thanks, I shall spare your life. I do not trust you, Andromeda Jackson. I do not like what your arrival means for the future of Olympus. But for the sake of peace in the family, I shall let you live." There was some thundering and he was gone.